Potent Potables
by bibi4
Summary: It's CJ's birthday. CJt friendship


Author: Bibi  
  
Email: bibirae1@aol.com  
  
Title: Potent Potables  
  
Characters: CJ/Toby Friendship  
  
Rating: hmmm, probably PG-13, for being in a bar?  
  
Summary: It's CJ's birthday  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Would I be going for a job interview at Wal-Mart if they were?  
  
Spoilers: Don't be silly.  
  
Feedback: Is lovely  
  
Bibi's Note: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear AJ, happy birthday to you. I wrote this because it's easier to email than a cake.   
  
Thank you Kimberley for Betaing. I really appreciate it. You helped me in my hour of need. X Thanks to that lovely Yorkshire lass Gemma Liz. X  
  
CJ laid her head on the chill mahogany of the bar. The cool wood was comforting in the hot, smoky room. She wiggled her toes in their nylon prison; her shoes long since kicked off below her bar stool, and looked across at Toby. He held her gaze with eyes heavy from drink.  
  
"Toby? This was good idea. Birthdays should always be like this. My friends are here; we're in a bar. It's fun. We-you and I, the staff, Josh, Sam, Donna- we so rarely get a chance to just hang out, relax with one another. So, thank you for arranging all this. It means a lot to me. That's really not just the alcohol talking. I mean it."  
  
She reached out with an unsteady hand to squeeze Toby's, which had been fiddling with a peanut left on the bar by Josh during his attempts at catching them in his mouth. He looked down, surprised, and smiled a little.  
  
Toby turned his head away from her and exhaled a long, controlled lungful of cigar smoke. After a talk about the perils of cashmere and smoke particles from her, he had always been careful around her when he smoked. She had told him off one very drunken night in a bar in New York far more than a decade ago, but he still remembered every time he smoked and couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't.  
  
"Fun, CJ? I'll hold you to that when we have to get up at five thirty tomorrow morning. You better remember that you had a good time tonight and don't let that be overshadowed by the monumental hangover you'll have. I can't believe how much you've drunk. I know you're tall, but for the life of me I can't work out where you've put it all. There was the champagne at the office. Did Carol buy that? I forget now. It was a while ago. And since then, well, I can't even work out how many grasshoppers you've had. Most of which, might I add, were bought by me. I don't have money to throw around, you know."  
  
He talked in a low, tired voice, and spoke very slowly, as if speaking expended too much energy for him to bear. His eyes told the same story, that of a man who slept five hours a night on a good night and who hadn't taken a vacation in the two years of the administration.  
  
CJ half sat up and eyed him amusedly, a smile playing on her lips. She rested her chin on her hand, elbow resting and a slight puddle of scotch, spilled by Toby earlier when gesticulating to try and convince her about some international trade something. She hadn't really had any opinion about it, but had enjoyed baiting him, playing devil's advocate with the issue. Top among her hobbies, along with pina coladas and taking walks in the rain, was arguing with Toby. He was so dynamic when he was trying to convince her of the validity of his way of thinking.  
  
"Whatever. Now on to the really important part of the evening: I, Claudia Jean Cregg, am about to share with you my new theory of sociology. Or perhaps anthropology. I forget which is which."  
  
'Well, that sounds promising as theories go. You don't even know what it's a theory of, CJ."  
  
CJ sighed and shook her head slightly at him, causing her hair, which had curled slightly through the day to rustle around the nape of her neck.  
  
"Ah, simple Toby, how very little you know. It's not the name of the theory that matters. Saying that, I actually do have a good name for this particular one. It's called 'Potent Potables'. Like in that game show. Do you like it?"  
  
As usual, she didn't wait for an answer, before rushing onwards.  
  
"The way I see it, we're all like drinks. To be more precise, alcoholic drinks. The staff, we're all beverages, if you will. That's where the potent potables come in, you see."  
  
"CJ, so help me. I don't actually want to hear this, but since you're determined, could you at least hurry up with it?" Toby interrupted.  
  
"I'll make it short and ever-so simple for you. While I'm doing it could you order me another drink? And yourself. Don't worry-I'll buy these ones."  
  
Toby motioned toward the bartender, as CJ continued.  
  
"We, the staff of the Barlet administration, are each all like alcoholic drinks. Forgive me if I leave Leo out of this one. It just seems in poor taste. So, you, me, Josh and Donna, we're all like drinks. I've been thinking about this a while, can you tell?"  
  
The bartender placed two white circles of paper on the bar and a grasshopper and a scotch in front of CJ and Toby respectively. They both picked up their drinks immediately and sipped. CJ shook her glass a little.  
  
"You know, I swear these things are getting stronger. Anyway, where was I?"  
  
"Potent potables?" said Toby reluctantly. He could remember countless theories of CJ's over the years, from the one comparing their first groups of friends in California to planetary bodies, and her as a meteorite, bridging the gap between the two or some such, to ones more recently comparing Josh and Donna to types of animals that relied on each other. While they were doubtless amusing, CJ's hypotheses were very rarely grounded in anything whatsoever, scientific or otherwise.  
  
"Right. We are all like liquors. Donna is gin, relatively pure and refined. Josh is vodka, fun at first, but a bad idea in large quantities."  
  
Josh, who had wandered over at the sound of his name like a well-trained dog, began listening to the conversation. He needed no introduction to it, as he too was well aware of CJ's various sociological theories.  
  
"You, Toby, are rum. Dark and moody, you see? And last, but most certainly not least, I am tequila, exotic and."  
  
"Used by frat boys on spring break?" snickered Josh.  
  
CJ smacked Josh round the head, but otherwise seemed to ignore him. She continued with her theory, looking more and more inebriated with each sip of her cocktail. It was nearly midnight, and they had been drinking steadily since they had left work five hours previously.  
  
'Separately, we're all fine, but together, such as in a Long Island Iced Tea, we're much better. What do you think guys?"  
  
Toby looked at CJ for a long time.  
  
"I can't believe you have been thinking about that rather than, you know, working. Despite that I am quite impressed that you managed to find a cocktail for all of us. Well, impressed is slightly too strong a word here. But, you know what I mean."  
  
As she nodded, CJ slipped a little in her seat, her elbow sliding off the bar. She tried to right herself, but ended up clinging to the edge of the bar stool with both hands, her stockinged legs flailing. Toby jumped up and helped her to right herself back into her seat.  
  
"Come on, you. You're as drunk as I am and we should get home. We'll call us a cab. And, I promise, as an extra birthday present, that if you get sick I'll hold your hair back for you." 


End file.
